I Won't Get Pinned
by Katnibellamione
Summary: After the success of The Book of Annie on one of my other channels, I wanted to embark on a series in which I explored the Victors communities in each of the Districts. I started with District 9, since so little is known about it, and a boy who is Reaped for the 43rd Games named Daniel Bernhardt. I use podium names, except when I have to use canon. Enjoy! More Victors series soon!
1. Chapter 1: 43rd Reaping

**Chapter 1: 43rd Reaping**

The foreman calls for quitting time in the fields. I pause in my harvesting of the grain, which District 9 is known for and begin my long walk back towards town and home. I'm only 16, but the child labor laws here are likely the least restrictive in all of Panem. Besides, my parents figured they could use the extra money.

That's all I really am to them: an extra pair of hands.

My name is Daniel Bernhardt. I am one of the top wrestlers on my team in school. Other than that, I might as well be invisible.

None of the girls seem to notice me, despite my stocky build. And my parents see me as the youngest of their seven sons. All the rest are past Reaping age.

But not me. And that's where I have to head now, to partake in the Reaping for the 43rd Annual Hunger Games. It is a sick contest meant to serve as everlasting punishment for the twelve districts of Panem rising up against the Capitol over a generation ago. 24 tributes, each a boy and a girl between the ages of 12 and 18 is sent into an outdoor arena to fight to the death. Last one standing becomes the Victor, and then a mentor to coach future tributes until they die.

Really, the Games have not been going on for long. And already, District 9 has made a respectable Victory Record for itself. As I make to stand with the other 16 year old boys, I notice the Peacekeepers bring our four Victors to the stage. All of them women. No man from Nine has ever returned from the Games alive, which is a shame. If myself or one of my wrestling buddies was Reaped, one of us could probably make a go of it, maybe even win.

The Mayor is now reading through the Dark Days speech, so I tune him out until he reaches the reading of Past Hunger Games for District 9.

"The Victor of the 19th Hunger Games: Mizar Aldjoy!" A middle-aged woman waves to the polite applause from the crowd. Really, it should not have taken nearly two decades for Nine to wrack up a win, yet here we are. Even District 12 got a win before us; their only one so far - a woman named Cassiope Fletch triumphed just about three years before Mizar.

"The Victor of the 27th Hunger Games: Laurel Flamsteed!" A woman in her early 30s smiles at the crowd. She won in a frozen tundra not unlike the one that Cassiope from 12 had to go through. She's the mother of two small children - one of the few Victors who has ever broken what is known as the Victors' Code. It forbids attachment, and that means no marriage and families, for one's own protection.

"The Victor of the 35th Hunger Games: Jomilee Lapworth!" Jomilee is only in her mid-20s, and very pretty. A lot of the boys in school like her. A few have even proposed, but the Code has forced her to turn them down. Such a shame. She could have her pick of a husband, if she really wanted to.

"The Victor of the 39th Hunger Games: Marian Green!" Our most recent Victor is scarcely 20, but she has a beaming smile. I like Marian's smile. It is almost motherly, although she would refuse to break the Code just as much as Jomilee.

All girls. No boy from 9 has ever won the Games. But I am hopeful. We have a rivalry with District 5. It's really a joke, but what we've noticed is that, whenever a District 5 tribute has won, a District 9 tribute has almost always won the following year. The year before Marian emerged victorious, a female tribute from 5, Porter Millicent Tripp (lord, what a name!) sustained a heavy neck injury to kill her final opponent and become Victor. Thornburn Clodowech, a male from 5, won the year before Laurel, just after the First Quarter Quell. And since James Logan, the boy from 5, won last year... I am more confident about Nine's prospects.

Until our escort, whose name I can't remember and don't bother to, reaches into the Girls' Reaping Bowl. "Dewda Earthscape!" A girl of 14 tremblingly takes the stage. No tribute under the age of 15 has ever won the Games. I already know that she is a casualty.

Then the boy is called. "Daniel Bernhardt!"

She picked me, I think in almost a stupor. Indeed, the Peacekeepers have to haul me up on stage. No one volunteers for me. Of course they wouldn't. Volunteers are rare outside of the Career districts. Some districts have never had a volunteer before.

Dewda and I are escorted into the Justice Building.

* * *

My family does not cry for me. As I suspected the wouldn't. The have six other sons, several already with wives and families. Most of my parents' grandchildren are sons, so the Bernhardt line is sure to continue on, even without me.

Aside from my family, no one else comes to visit me. Dewda and I are escorted to the train and we pull away from Nine probably forever.

Racking up two wins in the 30s has really been crucial for Nine's mentoring. Our Victors can afford to switch off, two by two; this year, the younger ones - Jomilee and Marian - are mentoring, to give the older women a break. The next year, Mizar and Laurel will take over. Unless one of us ends up winning, then they might switch off six months early, for the Victory Tour.

Still, it is a shame that there is no man to mentor the male tribute. Marian takes up the task of mentoring me. She has to. But she likes the job and puts me at ease very quickly. "Be sure to not show off what you know well when you get to the Training Center. What can you do?"

"I'm the top wrestler on my team in school," I say proudly. I know it sounds conceited, and being the youngest of seven sons has forced me to be quite humble. But I don't know how long I'll live, so I have the right to sound a little conceited, right?

Marian leans back in her chair. She is thinking, her brow furrowed. "Good... very good..." I catch something in her eyes. Is it... hope?

* * *

We are mobbed by the paparazzi when we get off the train, but all the districts are. We are a fresh crop to them.

And coming from District 9, I know a thing or two about crops.

First, we are painfully reminded of this fact by being dressed up to look like grain. I really hope we get a stylist who actually knows how to design tributes soon. I think our tributes have been costumed as grain as long as I have been alive. Which means Marian, Jomilee and possibly even Laurel have been through this agony.

Then, Dewda and I are stuffed into chariots and paraded through the City Circle. The Careers are well decked out. They're the tributes from 1 and 2, and for years, it has been rumored that they are trained illegally until age 18 and then thrown in. Judging by the fact that they win the thing almost every year, I suspect the rumors are true.

Jomilee and Marian then take us into the Training Center. Floor Nine is our quarters. How appropriate.

Training begins the next day. The kids from Districts 1 and 2 are huge - even the girls have muscles - and are mostly twice my size, though I am modestly built. The tributes from District 12 look like they have never been fed a day in their lives, but that's OK. They'll die the first day, as they've done every year save once. Well, actually, I take that back. The First Quarter Quell, their boy apparently made an epic go of it - this is according to my dad, as it happened before I was born. He made it to the Final Four before the mutts got him.

Seeing that I'm from Nine, the District 5 tributes needle me, but it's part of our joking rivalry. Par for the course. I wonder if the Capitol knows of our friendly spat. Perhaps it amuses them. But the chances of either of them coming back alive, since James Logan won last year, is slim. Back to back wins in the Games for any District is very rare. The Careers have done it, but no outlying district has managed it. No district has pulled off a hat trick - three in a row. Ever.

At the end of the three days, we go into our private sessions with the Gamemakers. I actually manage to pull a 9. Maybe that's my lucky number. Dewda nets a 6. That's mediocre. She should be ready for when her death comes.

* * *

The fourth and final day and night is our interviews with Caesar Flickerman. He's a relatively young TV host, but dynamic, putting even the most reticent tributes in a place where they can open up about themselves. All the Careers are arrogant, and the rest seem either young or weak; I wonder if we just got a bad crop this year. But I listen to the District 5 tributes out of friendly respect, but they both name-drop James Logan so much, the latest Victor, that they start to sound stale. And I listen to Dewda out of empathy. At last, my name is called.

"Daniel Bernhardt of District 9! Now, Daniel, you are well built. Seem strong. But no male from 9 has ever won, if my memory serves me correctly. Do you think you'll be the first?"

"Now that James Logan has won, I think so!"

Caesar laughs. "Ah, yes. The old 5-9 rivalry! We here in the Capitol think that's just humorous! So: tell us about yourself!"

I decide to be honest. "I'm the youngest of seven sons. Not many people back home noticed me before. No girlfriend or anything like that. So, maybe in winning the Games, people can finally recognize me for who I am."

The audience Awws, and we are out of time. "Well, best of luck to you, Daniel Bernhardt!"


	2. Chapter 2: The Arena

**Chapter 2: The Arena**

Dewda and I are awoken early the next morning. On the roof of the Training Center, Jomilee and Marian see us off, and the chopper takes us away.

Once at the arena, I am hustled underground. With seconds to launch, I enter my sealed pod and am risen up into the arena.

Taking in my surroundings, I can see that the arena this year takes place on a canyon cliff face. Mostly naturally formed passages and trails intermixed with boulders. But one wrong move, and you could go tumbling hundreds of feet to a certain death in the abyss.

The arena has forced the tribute pedestals closer together than usual, as there is not much room on the cliff face. There sits the Cornucopia only a few feet ahead of me, and I hone in on a backpack a few feet. Get it, and get out of there without falling off the cliff.

My plans for the Bloodbath don't quite go as planned.

I get to the backpack easily enough. But the boy from 11 reaches it right when I do. Desperate for supplies, I grapple for it with him in a kind of comical tug-of-war, before I have had enough and push him back. His head hits a rock rather hard as he goes down and he dies. I take the scythe he had picked up and take off with it and the backpack, disappearing along one trail amongst some boulders and bushes.

The scythe is vaguely familiar. I think some District 9 farmers use them to harvest the grain. I never have; I've mostly used an ox and plow when working the fields. They can actually bring in more grain than any man with a scythe any day.

It is mid-afternoon when the cannons finally begin to sound. I can't even begin to count them before I am distracted by a billy goat. I must have randomly earned it's displeasure, for it charges me, and only a few hacks from my scythe manage to bring it down. At least, I have a dinner to cook over a small fire.

The sun sets, and the faces of the dead tributes appear in the sky.

There are a lot of them. Both from 3 and 4. Then, we skip to both from 6. Then we skip again to both from 8. Dewda. Both from 10 through 12. That's it.

I don't think I've ever known a Games where the first day nearly gives us the Final 8, or even anywhere close to it. The average is between eleven to thirteen tributes.

District 5 should be proud. A Victor and then the very next year, both tributes are one tribute away from probably the only milestone in the Games before the next Victor. District 7 knows how to use axes; if they don't win, they almost always place. The top three finishers always get medals - gold, silver or bronze. Add in the Careers, and I have my hands full.

Can I win? I have my wrestling skills, but against my remaining competition, that isn't much. Can I win? And if so, how?

I go to bed unresolved.


	3. Chapter 3: Take Them to the Mat

**Chapter 3: Take Them to the Mat**

When I wake up the next morning, I spy a rabbit amongst the bushes and kill it for a quick breakfast. I eat it raw. I daren't light a fire in the middle of the day; it would attract the other tributes like a homing beacon.

I then decide to go exploring along the cliff face. I go sideways, only climbing when I have to. I have no net beneath me, and if I fall... it's Game Over.

After scaling a small face of cliff, I find a new pathway. Boulders mark each side every few feet. Backpack over my shoulder, I keep the scythe in front of me. I don't really know how to use it.

But I am about to find out. For who should I run into but Districts 5 and 7 in an alliance. Maybe they think that with four of them, they can take on the Careers and have a chance. I don't think they expected to run into me first, but perhaps I'll give them good practice.

Both of the District 7 tributes are armed with axes. Both District 5 tributes carry small knives, but they don't seem to know how to use them. Their tributes are normally masters at hiding until everyone else is dead or the field has dangerously dwindled. That's how James Logan won last year - hiding until the Top Two, then killing the last Career after he was significantly wounded in another fight.

"Look, everyone! It's 9! Get him!" the girl from 7.

The four tributes surround me, boxing me out. I get in my wrestling stance as the girl from 7 swings the axe at me. But, at the last second, I dodge.

She beheads the boy from 5 instead. In a rage, his district partner lunges and gets the drop on the girl from 7, stabbing her through the chest. Thinking fast, I block her arm as she brings the knife back out and then stab her back through the neck.

The boy from 7 is the only one who remains. We circle each other, he with the axe, I with the girl from 5's knife and my scythe.

When he lunges for me, I use surprise yet again by throwing both my weapons away and letting my wrestling instincts take over. I dodge the blade and tackle him. Just like on the mat... on the team...

Within moments, I have him pinned and have snapped his neck.

BOOM. BOOM. BOOM. BOOM. No Final Eight interviews this year, no time. We have hurtled into the Top Five. I wonder if the Careers will be scared, or ponder at what happened to result in such a burst of violence. But they will know, once they see the faces in the sky tonight. Because other than them, I am the only one left.

But I am filled with hope, as I stumble away with the blood of four tributes on my hand. If I could take on four tributes like that and survive, maybe I can beat the Careers the same way.


	4. Chapter 4: The Victor

**Chapter 4: The Victor**

I wait a few days and spend most of my time exploring the cliff and catching my meals with the scythe. The new knife allows me to sneak up on prey too, which helps.

All the while, I think how I can beat the Careers. They will have taken over the Cornucopia by now, as they so often do all the other years. Which means they'll have plenty of supplies and weapons.

But I have to be brave. Even if I fall to them, maybe I can take a few with me, and at least place with a medal. So, I make my way painstakingly back along the cliff face, back towards the horn.

The leader of the Careers, the boy from 1, is carving his broadsword when I come up. "We've been waiting for you, 9. Let's get this over with."

Immediately, I am filled with hope as all four Careers surround me, just as the other tributes did before.

The first to make a move is the boy from 2, with a sword. I dodge at the last second, so that he slices through the girl from 1 as though she is paper. She falls. BOOM.

The boy from 1, distracted for a moment, kills the boy from 2 in revenge. BOOM.

The boy from 1 and the girl from 2 now circle me. But I am grinning with my knife and scythe. I have bronze, even if I die now. But I want to go all the way.

The girl from 2 swipes at me, but I block it with my scythe. Then, I thrust with the knife when she is distracted, landing a stab right between her breasts. Her eyes bug out and she falls. BOOM.

The boy from 1, the leader is the only tribute who remains. And he is beaming. "Thank you for clearing the field for me, 9."

Then he stabs forward with his sword. I block with the scythe and then go in with the knife. The boy from 1, recognizing the trick, blocks.

Just as I expected him to.

Sliding my scythe downward, I slice off his sword hand. He cries out in shock, and then I flip him over my head... and over the cliff.

His death scream is painfully long, but is finally cut off. BOOM.

Claudius Templesmith announces my Victory: "Ladies and gentlemen, may I present the winner of the 43rd Annual Hunger Games: Daniel Bernhardt! The tribute from District 9!"

* * *

Jomilee and Marian are practically dancing when I step off the chopper. A male Victor! At last!

"Wait until Mizar and Laurel see you!" Marian squeals.

I have my final interview with Caesar, I receive my gold medal and the crown is placed on my head. Then, my mentors and I head home.

Becoming a Victor, especially the first male Victor for my district, I become a sensation almost overnight. My parents are quick to show off their Victor-youngest son, which might seem hypocritical of them, since they were perfectly content to ignore me before. But I move into District 9's Victors' Village, and as both are getting older, I let them move in with me.

Now that I've won, girls are suddenly interested in me. But I've seen how Laurel struggles with a husband and two children and her career as a mentor. So I refuse to break the Code.

For years afterward, I mentor the male tribute, which eases the burden off the women's shoulders. I continue to do so even when one of the girls offers to take up the slack. I will only do so when another male from our district wins.

So for decades, I mentor... and mentor... and mentor... to no avail. No other male from 9 wins. No other _tribute_ from 9 wins.


	5. Chapter 5: 75th Reaping

**Chapter 5: 75th Reaping**

I am in my late 40s now. 48, in fact. Still not married. No kids.

The arena is my life. I belong to it. Even if there hasn't been a District 9 Victor since me.

And suddenly, my colleagues and I are gathered on the couch, watching the President announce the Third Quarter Quell twist. I was only 23, and still a relatively new mentor, when a boy from District 12 named Haymitch Abernathy pulled off an epic win. I felt good for Cassiope Feltch at the time because she needed the win and badly. And at least, the old drunk isn't alone this year. Last year, he got both his tributes out when they faked some mushy love story. They had to have cheated. I know our tributes died in the Bloodbath, they didn't stand a chance, but still. District 12 still had to have cheated.

"On the 75th anniversary, as a reminder that even the strongest cannot overcome the power of the Capitol, the tributes will be Reaped from their existing pool of Victors."

The three women chatter beside me excitedly, while I sit in numb shock. After 32 years... I am going back into the arena. I never even saw it coming.

I won't be alone, of course. Being the only Victor of my gender and district. Johanna Mason who won several years ago will be a guarantee. As will old Woof Casino of 8, as Indigo Weaver (who won the Quell half a century ago) has been dead for years. And Haymitch's bitch. That Katniss Everdeen. Her district partner is the only mystery. If old Abernathy goes in, the winner of the last Quell, he could pose a real threat. But no more so than the boy he and the Girl on Fire smuggled out. Peeta. He'd probably go in to protect his girl. And together, they will be formidable. They have a will to survive and true grit like none I have ever seen from tributes.

"If only Mizar was here..." I hear Laurel say comisseratingly.

Yes, if only she was. But she died almost a decade ago, just after that Finnick Odair of 4 won at the youngest age ever. The rest of us held a fine funeral for her. But she was old. Most Victors don't live past their 60s, and the rare ones that do (like Woof, and I think that Mags woman from District 4 just turned _80_ ) are shown a modicum of respect, especially in the Capitol. Laurel herself is in her mid-60s and she is looking back on her life. She might die soon. Maybe she should just volunteer and get it over with. Jomilee is in her mid-50s, Marian her early 50s. And then there's me.

* * *

The District 9 Reaping takes only a minute.

I am Reaped with the one slip of paper everyone already knows has my name on it. Then, the real story, of who will go back in with me.

"Marian Green!"

I expect for Laurel to do something noble, like volunteer for her, but she doesn't. I want to groan. At least Marian has life left to live.

Laurel and Jomilee mentor us on the train ride over. We watch the other Reapings. That brother-sister pair from District 1 is in. So is Brutus Gunn; I remember his Victory well, because the Capitol was celebrating my 5-year anniversary at the time. He's not much younger than I am. His district partner, Enobaria, is only 30. Finnick Odair, the handsome guy who was crowned ten years ago is Reaped for Four. The girl who won a hollow victory five years back is tasked to join him, but is replaced by that Mags woman. The 80-year-old. She needs a cane to walk to the stage.

I feel a pang of guilt when James Logan, my immediate predecessor, is Reaped. We're friends, and he's also close to old Abernathy; they drink together a lot. I don't want to kill him. And there were plenty of other guys who could have volunteered for him.

Johanna Mason. Woof Casino. Me. Those Reapings fly by with one Victor for a category. Chaff Mitchell of 11, who won two years after me, is also in. The Everdeen girl. Old Haymitch is called, but the boy replaces him just as I knew he would.

Laurel and Jomilee immediately coach us to get District 12 fast and get them good. Then, we might be able to lead sponsors to us. But we can only do that if Haymitch's kids are dead. I may be getting old, but I could pin the boy in my sleep. The girl, with her arrows, will be a challenge.

* * *

The Chariot rides fly by. I wave to the crowd, but inside I feel hollow. I can win again... I think.

Over the next three days of Training, Marian and I are at a loss over what to do at first. We have spent so many times mentoring tributes not to show their skills, but this is different. We've known these people for years, with the exception of Haymitch's brats. Everyone already knows how good I can wrestle.

So I just practice. I manage to beat Brutus Gunn of District 2 in a mock-match, which annoys him. Then, Johanna Mason strips down to absolutely nothing, oils up her breasts and takes me to the mat.

She's only 21, but she must like a challenge. I try not to grab her too aggressively, because she happens to be naked. But shirtless myself, the skin-to-skin contact is arousing...

After that first day, Johanna and I steal into a corner by the elevators. I kiss her roughly, hoist her up the wall. She strips me of my pants. We begin to have violent sex. Her cunt is so tight, and I wonder how many men she's had in her little bit of life. Besides, I'm going to the arena for a second time, I should grab a poke and quick, while I still can.

Johanna thrashes in my arms, and I growl as I thrust faster.

"Oh... Daniel... not bad, Nine, not bad..."

Haymitch's kiddies discover us quite by accident. The girl looks perturbed. What a prude. She's as pretty as Johanna, and I find myself wondering just how tight her vagina is, with how stuck-up she comes across.

"Come on, Peeta." And she drags her lover off to the elevators. He gives me a look of disapproval that clearly says, _I can't believe you're fucking someone thirty years you're junior, almost! You perv!_

* * *

The fourth night is the interviews with Caesar. When each Victor is introduced, he makes sure to say which Games that person won. I pay more attention than normal, only because it seems like the Victors are fighting back, angry that they are being betrayed to the arena for a second time. But not me. I might be one of the aging ones, a little washed up, but I could win again. Get all the glory for 9!

So, when Caesar asks me how I feel about the Quell, I just shrug my shoulders and say that I'm here for another Games.


	6. Chapter 6: I Get Pinned

**Chapter 6: I Get Pinned**

I rise up back into the arena for the first time in over three decades to see a jungle paradise.

My pedestal is in the middle of a miniature sea. I see rocky spokes jutting out from an island that houses the Cornucopia, and these spokes confine two tributes to a watery wedge each.

Looking to my left, I see the boy. The boy from 12. Peeta. I grin. This is too perfect. I could take him out right now, and even if I don't get the Girl on Fire, I can break her. Destroy the Star-Crossed Lovers (so fake!) forever!

So, when the gong sounds, I dive in and swim for Peeta's pedestal. From the way he doesn't move, it's clear he doesn't know how to swim.

But, he'll learn, as I drag him off and in.

But he fights. He fights with everything he has. More than thirty years my junior, we tread water and he lands a few good punches in. Between some, he tries to re-mount his pedestals. I don't know what he's waiting for.

I sense a splash near us as Peeta tries to climb back on his pedestal yet again. I finally succeed in dragging him beneath the waves.

I don't intend to get pinned. But I do. I should have known that love is more powerful than any muscle.

So when the boy gets me in a headlock and snaps my neck, I go quickly.

BOOM.


End file.
